


Décider ce que vous voulez

by tyrium



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gérald POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 20:34:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrium/pseuds/tyrium
Summary: After defeating the Templars, Aveline and Gérald's relatioship seems to fade. Still they find their way back to each other. Everything only seems to go uphill, but after a certain decision is made, the threat of falling out with each other is ever-present again.





	Décider ce que vous voulez

I still remember the days I have spent in Acadia. It was an easy, enjoyable, even desirable life. I remember my family’s home. I remember warm, sunny days, lying in the grass, feeling the breeze on my skin. I remember tender days and big grins, jaunty steps, and dirty clothes. I remember my mother’s dresses, my father’s cravats. I remember family dinners, strolling through the streets. Eating apples on the trees. I remember my friends and I remember feeling home.

Then came the uprising. Soldiers in the streets, blood on the walls. I sometimes still hear the clatter of muskets when it's silent. I remember my father’s cursing, the soldiers’ beatings. My mother’s silent cries at night. It was horrendous. However, my family was never one to suffer injustice contently. They spoke up, supported their causes, and fought for the future. Yet, they seemed to disregard their own, never caring, never bothering, what might come the next day. 

Actions come with consequences. For my family it was execution, everyone except me. I was the only one who was able to flee. My mother woke me in the middle of the night and told me to leave right away, for this is not my sentence, but theirs. After this I jumped on a wagon that was headed for New Orleans. I have never heard of this region, yet I thought that any place was better than staying in I place I had nothing left. 

Orphaned and homeless I wandered the streets. No one took pity on me, no one fed me or sheltered me. I was hopeless. Preparing myself mentally to face my eventual fate, I was lounging, not even trying to survive, but when I spotted this gentleman in plight I rushed to his side to help him. He was obviously struggling to complete all of his orders, and me, being a young and fast child, was the best temporary solution. 

This gentleman turned out to be Phillipe de Grandpré, one of New Orleans’ most influential merchants. He saw something in me and offered me a job as an errand boy. I carried his supplies, went to stores and lent a hand wherever I could. I slept at the warehouse, ate at the market, and wandered the streets during my free time. It was a better life than I could’ve ever imagined for myself in this unknown city. 

It was on my first Christmas after I left Acadia, that he invited me to dine with his family. And this is the day I first met her. I was led to a massive mansion in the heart of the city, surrounded by streetlights and distant chatter of passing citizens. I had never seen a house this grand in my life. The stairs leading to the house were crafted of fine wood, the doors engraved with pristine patterns. The windows pouring candlelight onto the dark streets. Yet, none of these objects could be compared to her angelic appearance. Though she was young, her dark curls, her caramel skin, and those deep, dark eyes, outshone the beauty of every other woman I’ve ever seen. She introduced herself as Aveline de Grandpré, daughter of Phillipe de Grandpré, who is not to be messed with or she’ll put glue in your meal. Although her father reprimanded her, saying it was no way to speak with guests, I found it quite charming. From this moment on I knew that we were destined to be friends. 

After dinner she invited me upstairs to show me her favorite books. She dragged me through the library and only let go of my hand after presenting her favorite novels. We sat in the library for what felt like an eternity, mindlessly chatting about everything and nothing. I enjoyed it greatly. 

In the following months we met quite regularly. Sometimes she would come to the warehouse, sometimes I was invited over for dinner. On some special occasions her father would let her accompany me on an errand, if only to stop her everlasting pleading. She was thrilled, to say at least. 

After finishing we strolled to a nearby bakery and bought pastries for the two of us. We ate them on a bench near the docks. On this day she called me her friend for the first time. We sat there basking in the warm spring sun and she said, I remember it clear as day, “You’re my best friend, Gér.” I was ecstatic. So, I replied “You’re my best friend as well, Aveline.” After that we ate in companionable silence. I felt incredibly appreciated and well, loved in this moment. 

The years passed, we grew older and closer. At times we would wander the city at night, enjoying the company. We often passed the docks and would sometimes even cool our feet in the water. This was much to her step-mother’s concern. She did not like Aveline and I sneaking away late at night, however, that did not stop us. We continued strolling through parks and climbing rooftops, sometimes having a sleepover at the warehouse.

It was one of these nights that I realized what kind of feelings I harbored for her. Being around her made my chest flutter and my heart race. When she looked me in the eyes I felt as if there were butterflies in my belly. It was wonderful. But I did not know how to act on such feelings, so I put them aside. Better safe than sorry. 

Not long after that Agaté introduced us to the brotherhood. We spent less time together, as Aveline was all about the Assassin’s life. Agaté trained her to be an assassin. He saw something great in her. I was to become an informant, gathering intelligence to support their mission. Now I did not mind this, something entirely else bothered me. Our time together was diminished greatly. We rarely walked together anymore. She was away at night, and I was working for her father. It deprived me, but seeing her engage in activities she enjoyed, pleasured me far more.

Aveline started to do much more than just the necessities. She freed slaves and fought abusers. It seemed that her stepmother was involved somehow, but I did not know certainly. After the whole fiasco with De Ferrer, Vasquez, her own stepmother, and the Templars, Aveline wasn’t the same. 

I felt it. She was detached, always out, and always tired. We rarely talked and when we did it was business. I missed her, my Aveline, the thoughtful, witty girl that I learned to love, I missed her so terribly. I thought this would be our life from now on, her roaming and me managing the business, never mending our friendship. 

I thought so until recently.


End file.
